The Seven stages of Grief
by Mollan
Summary: How the seven stages of grief can not only describe the loss of a loved one, but also his return.Warnings;angst,Slash,spoilers of The Reichenbach falls.


The Seven Stages of Grief

Disclaimer: Not mine *sob*

Warning: Love between humans.

Story: How the seven stages of grief can not only describe the loss of a loved one, but also his return.

_**Chock/ Denial**_

First there is absolute numbness and no reaction besides the crashing china on the floor. And that is the only sound for en eternity while he stares at the visage before him. Then a flash of uncontrollable shaking goes through him and a choked cry that breaks from the otherwise stoic doctor, a heartbreaking unintelligible cry mixed with chock of tears and "No!"

A No because it can't be, it can't be true. Things like that does not happen in real life; no matter how much Johan had wanted it to, had whished and begged for it to happen. IT. Just. Does. Not. Happen.

But there he is, and John for a fleeting moment have the absurd thought that somehow someone had slipped that infernal gas from the Baskerville case and he was now having a very vivid hallucination. But John is not felling fear, only numbness and incomprehension, because he cannot comprehend what is before him.

_**Pain **_

But he looks, sees and can't help an aborted movement towards HIM, but it's too much and Johan buries his head in his arms and have to crouch down because his legs wont bear him anymore, and he wants to hide from the sudden onslaught of emotion, from the sight before him, and he's afraid to lift his head again because maybe what he saw would have disappeared, but he also at the same time cant face it, him, the man, SHERL..! He cries, tries to breathe, because he just can't seem to…

And suddenly his enwrapped in arms and a smell so achingly familiar even after three years that it ends the manic whisper of a name, the name he had not realized he was uttering, over and over…the name of a man, he still can't believe is..who is GONE but now is not and…Om my god! But he's there and he gently cradles John to his chest, the two of them sitting there on the floor, resting him against his beating heart, clarifying without a doubt that Yes, he is there, he is alive, his with John.

_**Anger**_

And trough John the emotions is too MUCH, he can't know what to feel, they all rush around in his head, his heart, his being; relief, happiness, exaltation, wonder, sorrow, chock, liberation, bliss, exaltation, doubt, distress, and ANGER, so much knifes its way through the other emotions and abruptly stops the tears from falling, leaving only cold Wrath in its wake. How dared he, how DARED HE!

He harshly pushes the presumed lost man holding him away from him .He wants to hit him, Oh he wants to Hit him so bad, his body aching to do it but he reel's himself in ,put it aside for a later time , a skill well learned in the army and moves to a kneeling position instead of in the arms of, although it hurts to do it, instead starring into the face and eyes of his best friend, his everything, his Lo…no he would not speak, think that word, not to a man who had done something like that to him, who had ripped entire John world to bleeding shreds by dying only to then reappear and rip it to shreds, AGAIN and who was now also sitting on his knees before him, more emotions then John had ever seen in his eyes; shame (and MY would John had given him a bashing if he had not seen that, still might) nervousness and apprehensiveness and hope, all directed at John.

_**Depression**_

John looks, stares and trace, reacquaints himself with the once familiar and never forgotten; the still unruly brown locks, the lush mouth, the ever-present blue scarf, the violinist hands and long lean body, the few more lines in the face and finally the pale wolf like eyes , warily watching him.

Suddenly, you can't help it, you choke up and tears start to fall again, remembering years and years of tears, loneliness, heartache and utter despair of being alone. And bawls like a small kid who had lost his mother, there in front of the man who's the cause of it all. And arms once more circle him.

Its awkward being held in this position with them both on the floor leaning against the sofa, but John can't bring himself to care and they sit there a long, long time, until all the tears are gone and only emptiness remains, because John is exhausted and cannot bear feel anymore. He sleeps.

_**The upward turn**_

He wakes soon, warm comfortable, safe, feeling HIM, think he must be dreaming and tries to stay asleep holding on to the world of sleep, its dream images and sensations. It would not be the first time he had dreamt of Him coming back, magically appearing and in John's arms.

But as he gradually becomes more conscious as he feels the arms around him, the chest against which he is leaning, and its real and his hearing sharpens and he can hear words whispered; _I'm sorry, so sorry, forgive me John. Forgive me, I'll never again, I miss you, I love you and_…And you grasp those locks within your hands and turns that achingly handsome face towards you and you for the first time feel those missed wonderful amazing, lips against yours and after the initial surprise you feel them responding, moving taking and giving as much as you take and give in return.

You pres yourself into him, trying to imprint yourself upon him, making him understand that there's no turning back, no more absence from each other, and the detective returns the sentiment in full with his own body.

_**Reconstruction**_

The act is reverent, an exploration, an war in which they both willingly surrender to the need to be close, closer, Even closer as it aches trough them and all obstacles is removed, clothes, feelings, words until its only THEM left , reassuring, warm, ALIVE skin bones and Heat, deep, deep in each other ,pushing, taking, loving, until the exploding relief is found in the other and the reaffirmations, and promises is silently made that it, they, everything, will be ok.

_**Acceptance and hope**_

There would be talking, explanations given and much grief ahead. But as John and Sherlock tried to catch their breaths afterwards, still holding each other, their eyes met and neither could help the smiles forming, the chuckles and then full laughter of pure euphoria that suddenly overcomes them and they have to hold on to each other while laughing themselves silly of Joy. They were together; there was a future and their most beloved one was in their arms. It was time to start living again.

**Fin**

A/N : Wow don't know where that came from, thought about the feelings of loosing someone close to you, something I luckily haw escaped myself so far, closes being my dad's heart attack which he thank god walked away fine from, but drew from some of those feeling I had then while writing this. Also remembered reading about the different stages of grief at some point and figured John would defiantly go through those stages when loosing Sherlock, but wanted a happy ending, so tweaked it a bit. Well hope you enjoyed and please leave a review if you feel like it


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